Boyfriends? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Boyfriends!
by drawingtoaclose
Summary: Valentine's Day. The unhappiest of the happy holidays. Freddie, Sam, Carly and Spencer are dealing with realtionships, relationships, realtionships.


**Just a bit of Valentine's Day sillness. **

* * *

><p><strong><span>Boyfriends? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Boyfriends<span>**

Feb 11, 2015

Spencer heard the keys jangling in the front door and assuming it was Carly, didn't bother to look up from positioning the small nail just right on his latest sculpture.

The door opened then shut with a thunderous slam, which jarred his concentration as he swung the hammer. It made a painful connection with his left thumb. The hammer itself flew from Spencer's grip and landed perfectly in an open bucket of paint, splattering bright red droplets all over the hardwood floor.

"Arrrggggh! Carly! What the he – "?

"Arrrgggh to you, too"! she growled back, as she stormed towards the stairs but then made an abrupt turn towards the kitchen.

"Do we have any wine? I want a friggin' glass of wine, now"!

Carly demanding alcohol was odd. Although she was not yet old enough too legally drink, Spencer allowed her to have a glass of wine occasionally. Sensing that this might be more serious than a bad grade on one of her college exams or the usual "boyfriend didn't return my text all day", Spencer decided to bite his tongue and play the understanding older brother.

"What's wrong"? He tried to ask, while tightly clamping down on his aching thumb with his other hand but was immediately shouted over.

"What's wrong? You're what's wrong! You and all other men are what's wrong! You're all stupid and clueless and don't get ANYTHING! Men are such ass -"

Riiinngg! Riinngg! The home phone drowned out the curse.

"If that's Brenden," Carly screamed, "tell him I'm not here! No, better yet, tell him I'M DEAD! Tell him I fell into Mt St Helens and it erupted! Men are all IDIOTS"!

Carly smashed her purse down on the kitchen island, grabbed the lone bottle of white zinfandel out of the metal wine rack, ripped open the drawer, snatched the corkscrew and stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

"Hey, that was for my date tonight," Spencer protested, following his retreating sister, to no avail.

The offending house phone continued to ring of the hook. Spencer grumbled under his breath, reminding himself to get a new answering machine. How does an answering machine catch on fire anyway, he wondered.

"Hello", he answered with a wince, his thumb throbbing.

"Oh Hi, Mrs. Benson. No, Freddie's not here. No, I haven't seen him. Yes, Carly has a week off from school, too. No. I haven't seen Sam either. Yes. If I see Freddie, I'll tell him. Ok, Mrs. Benson, I gotta go. I have some stuff to do", Spencer interrupted, glancing at the quickly drying splatters of paint on the floor. "Ok, bye."

"Man, she's annoying" Spencer said aloud. "These kids are three years in to college and she still treats Freddie like he's nine. What's up with that"?

"Carly! Carly"! he shouted, moving to the bottom of the stairs. "You get down here now! And bring my wine back. I'm calling Dad, if you don't," he finished, stomping his foot in dismay.

Moments later, Carly came trudging down the stairs in her baggy old Pike's Place hoodie and sweats. She looked defeated, the bottle of wine dangling at her knee, held loosely in her left hand.

"I can't do it Spencer. I just can't. It's too hard," she said quietly, gesturing limply with her free hand

"Aw, kid, what's really wrong," Spencer asked, retrieving the bottle from Carly's long, skinny fingers, noting the corkscrew sticking out of the now mangled cork.

Carly shuffled down the last of the stairs and dejectedly flung herself on the couch.

"Boys suck, that's all. They all. Just. Really. _Suck_."

"You know, young lady", Spencer started, ready to lecture Carly on her use of foul language which had been on the rise lately, but bit his tongue and decided on a different route.

Placing the bottle on the floor, he gently tossed his prone sister's legs from the couch to the coffee table, knocking the book on his favorite Polish sculptor to the floor in the process. He plopped down, turned, and gave her his best "concerned but understanding brother look."

"Alright kid, what's going on? Tell Spence and he'll help you solve it." He then mimed a mid-air scratch on an imaginary turntable. "And check out the hook, while my D.J. revolves it," trying to add some levity.

"Mexican wrestlers and strippers"! Carly shouted at him, ignoring his nonsense, making her own violent mid-air gestures before folding her slender arms, which swam in the baggy hoodie, tightly to her chest.

Not even Spencer could have expected an answer this weird.

"Mexican wrestlers and strippers? What"?

"You know it's Valentine's day on Saturday, right"?

"Yeah, of course I do. I'm making Madeline that sculpture," he said, pointing across the room to assemblage of wood, plastic and metal hearts and other shapes that was barely discernible as a "something."

"What does it do"? Carly asked, wondering if Madeline had a fire extinguisher in her house.

"Nothing"! Spencer exclaimed, excitedly. "That's the best part. It doesn't 'do' anything. It just a representation of our journey from when we met until now. Three years of relationship bliss in sculptural form. Do you like it"? Spencer asked, beaming.

"You know, Spence I'm sure she'll love it. You and Madeline are made for each other. You are both perfectly . . . _weird._

"Alright," Spencer exclaimed, bobbing his head like a demented chicken.

"At least you're happy with Valentine's Day coming up. Everybody I know is miserable."

"Oh yeah, you were gonna tell me what's up. What about Mexican strippers"?

"Mexican WRESTLERS! See, guys never listen. They're always too busy looking at sports scores and stats and reading Twitter to see what is going on in pre-spring league baseball and football and soccer in England and other stupid shit. Gaaaawwwwwwd. I can't take it."

"We're talking about Brandon, right"?

"Brenden, Spencer! Brenden. Brenden. BRENDEN! How many times have I told you. We were going out for almost ten months and you could never get his name right! It just proves my point."

"Wait. _Were_ going out? Did you two break up? This doesn't have anything to do with Freddie breaking up with . . . um . . . what was her name"?

"Chloe. And, no . . . it has nothing to do with Freddie. You know that Sam and Sam are fighting, too"?

"Sam? Who's Sam"?

"OMG, Spencer. Sam. My best friend, _Sam_. Puckett. You know . . . blonde hair. Eats all the food in our fridge? We do iCarly together? Or used to, at least."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you mean Sam, but she's dating a guy named _Sam_? I thought her boyfriend's name was 'Sticks'?

"Help me, somebody, please," Carly mumbled, exasperated. "His real name is Sam! Everybody just calls him 'Sticks' because he plays the drums. C'mon, Spencer. You couldn't have thought that 'Sticks' was his real name? Could you? Oh wait, look who I'm talking too. Never mind."

"Hey, sis, that isn't nice. I'd just never heard anyone call him anything but 'Sticks'. Who knows? His parents could be weirdo, 1980's Heavy Metal hippies or something."

"Who cares, anyway? It's going to be Valentine's Day and I'm going to be alone, and Freddie is going to be alone and Sam is going to be alone. It's going to be the worst Valentine's Day, ever. It all sucks so much."

"So . . . you and _Brenden _brokeup? Why? When? Wasn't he over here on Friday night watching some chick flick with you"?

"Spencer. He wants to take me to a thing at the Showbox. It's ridiculous, masked Mexican wrestlers or something . . . music and comedians and old time burlesque strippers and I don't know what else. For Valentine's Day! Our FIRST Valentine's Day. And he thinks that's ok? He already bought tickets months ago. For the front row, too"!

"Really? It sounds like fun! Have you ever seen those guys? They jump off the top rope, fly into the crowd, and do all kinds of crazy stuff. It should be a blast"!

"It's our FIRST VALENTINE'S DAY! It's not going to be 'a blast' because I'm not going. I told him no freakin' way and he got all mad and stupid so I got pissed off and broke up with him. I'd rather be alone than be seen at something like that. All the girls at school will laugh at me."

"But Carly, why do you care what other people think"?

"It's not the point! I don't want to go to that! Not for a first Valentine's Day. Not ever. I just wanted some flowers and maybe a small box of chocolates and a nice dinner. Maybe a movie. That's what the other girls are getting. I even think that Robbie is going to propose to Trina on one of those "Murder Mystery" cruises in the Sound. Now _that's_ romantic. Smelly wrestlers and stupid dancers with their giant feather hats are not romantic. It's dumb. And embarrassing."

Spencer unexpectedly launched himself off the couch bolted across to where the paint had spilled, grabbed a rag and began to clean up the mess.

"Well, I think it sounds like fun. You should reconsider. After all, he spent the money on the tickets."

"Not gonna happen. No way."

"Fine then. Be _A_-lone on Valentine's Day. You owe me a bottle of white zinfandel, by the way. You ruined the cork and it's all in the wine."

"Whatever, Spencer. I won't be _A_-lone anyway. I already called Freddie and he and I are going to hang out. We'll probably have more fun as friends than any couple."

"Suit yourself, kid," Spencer replied, while he continued to scrub away at the floor.

"Geez, Spencer. Thanks for _solving_ my problem. Everything is so much better now. I'm going to take a nap."

"No prob . . . that's what big brothers are for." He called after his departing sister, missing her sarcasm entirely.

As soon as Carly disappeared up the stairs, Spencer dashed gleefully over to the kitchen island, dug Carly's cell phone out of her purse and checked her most recent calls.

* * *

><p>Feb 12, 2015<p>

Spencer leaned against the cement wall of Bushwell Plaza's underground parking structure, his head swiveling back and forth. A beat up old, green Toyota pickup truck slowed to a stop and a young man stuck his head out the window.

Spencer approached the car, wide smile growing on his face.

"Are you sure about this? $130 bucks."

Spencer handed the money thru the open window and received a plain, white envelope in return.

The truck drove off and Spencer dashed off towards the elevator.

* * *

><p>Feb 13, 2015<p>

Spencer tossed his sketchbook off the bed that he'd fallen asleep holding, sending pencils and erasers from inside the closed pad, rolling and tumbling across the bedroom floor.

"Shoot, I forgot that I left those inside."

Grabbing his cell from the nightstand, he tapped speed dial one and waited for an answer.

"Morning, Maddy. You awake"?

A wide smile filled the quirky artist's face.

"Have I got a surprise for you"! He said, excitedly.

* * *

><p>Feb 14, 2015<p>

A nice, hot shower, a shave and Spencer was ready to go. He'd slept away most of the day, since getting home just before sunrise. It was Valentine's Day and he and Madeline had a big night planned. The first part, the sculpture representing their three years together, he'd already delivered the previous day. Madeline loved it, jumped up and down then they'd spent the rest of the day and night together, celebrating.

He dressed in his most comfortable jeans, a nice western shirt and his new coffee brown Chuck Taylor high tops. Eyeing a new, straw type Charlie Horse cowboy hat that Maddy had given him as a gift yesterday (she'd purchased a white version for herself) he hesitated before putting it on. Since he'd told her they were going somewhere casual and extra fun for their actual Valentine's date, she insisted they dress fun. The hat wasn't his style, but what the hell. He loved Maddy and he was more than happy to put a smile on her face. Spencer had a surprise for her anyway.

It was almost 4:30 but they didn't have to be to their destination until 7:00. He had plenty of time.

On his way out, he could hear the loud music flowing down from the iCarly Studio up above. It must be Carly and Freddy on their "just friends" Valentine's date so he figured he'd go hang out for a few minutes before picking up Maddy at 5:30.

Spencer's great mood sent him bounding up to the third floor like he was floating on air. Music from some band Spencer couldn't quite place, but he knew Carly loved, blared out the open door as he entered.

Carly and Freddie were sprawled out on adjacent beanbags, arms behind their heads, just listening. Looking content.

"Hey, Spence." Freddie greeted, turning down the music with the remote.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Big Brother. The only person I know who is _happy_ today." Carly added.

"What about Sam? And 'Sticks'"? Spencer countered.

"Nope. Done. Dumped his dopey ass yesterday."

Spencer looked up to see Sam coming from the 'backstage' area, while Freddie and Carly got up from the beanbags.

"Gee, Sam, I'm sorry."

"No sweat, Spence. He just wasn't cuttin' it anymore. It was time for Momma to put his dumb ass down."

"Anyway," the diminutive blonde continued, pulling Freddie and Carly close to her sides, "I'd rather spend Valentine's Day with two people who I truly love and who I can trust to never let me down."

"Aw, thanks Sam," Freddie squeezed Sam closer and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"You got that right, girl." Carly agreed, while throwing both arms around her best friend's shoulders for another hug.

"So, what are you guys gonna do all night? An iCarly"?

"We thought about that," Carly began.

"We were gonna call it "_Boyfriends_? We don't need no _stinkin'_ _boyfriends_," Sam quoted, doing her best bandito accent.

"Or _girlfriends_," Freddie added, accent and all.

"Uh Fred-_lonesome_, I'll do the comedy, you just hold the camera," Sam admonished.

"See Spence," Freddie complained. "After all these years, I still don't get no respect," doing his best Rodney Dangerfield.

"Anyway," Carly interrupted, "we decided that screw it, we were just gonna hang out all night, listen to music and talk about what assholes men are."

"And women, too," Freddie protested, drawing a mean glance from both girls.

"Carly," Spencer began, "what we really need to talk about is your mouth. All the foul language, lately. Sheesh."

Ignoring her brother, Carly asked "So, what are you and Maddy doing tonight"?

"And what up with the hat"? Sam questioned, leaping to flip it off the much taller Spencer's head with a quick flick of her right hand.

"Hey, watch it. Maddy got this for me. She thought it would be fun," he replied, retrieving the fallen hat.

As he turned back around, Carly dashed over to the half car that had decorated the iCarly set for years, and returned with a bottle of wine in hand.

"He ya go, Spencer. To replace the one I ruined the other day."

"Thanks, kid." He replied, taking the bottle "you didn't really have to. I was only kidding. Anyway, I was able to save that other one. But thanks. You're a good kid sister."

"I'm twenty years old, Spencer. When do I get to stop being your 'kid' sister"?

"You'll always be my 'kid' sister, Carly. Love you." He added giving her a big, brotherly hug.

"Alright, I gotta go pick up Maddy. We have dinner reservations at seven. You kids have fun. Sorry that your relationships all fell apart right before Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, whatever." Sam snapped.

"Who cares, girls are nothing but trouble anyway," Freddie added, receiving a disapproving look and a punch to the shoulder from Sam.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You just go out with your girlyfriend and have fun," Carly mocked as she pushed her brother towards the door. "We'll be fine here."

Carly watched as Spencer galloped down the stairs towards the front door and his rendezvous with Madeline.

"He's gone," she added, shutting the studio door.

"Awesome," Sam exclaimed while Carly headed back over to the set car, where she pulled two more bottles of wine from their hiding spot.

"Come to Momma." Sam exclaimed.

"Glasses? Or just drink straight from the bottle."

"Bottle." Sam decided. "Wino in the alley style. What about you, Fred-lush"?

"Bottle. What the hell . . . why not"?

"Happy Valentine's Day, to my two favorite girls in the world," Freddie exclaimed, after uncorking both bottles, taking a big swig.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Carls. Fredward. You guys are the best friends a single girl could have on the crappiest holiday of the year."

"Happy shitty Valentine's Day, Miss Puckett . . . Mr. Benson. My best friends, always."

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><p>Feb 14, 2015 6:30 pm<p>

"The Showbox? What are we doing here, Spence? Wait a second. The Showbox? No way, Spencer! Is this what I think it is"?

"Yes way! It's exactly what you think it is," Spencer replied, pulling two purple tinged tickets out of his pocket as they walked arm and arm towards the front entrance of the venue.

"Lucha Va-VOOOM! Front row"!

"Oh, man Spencer! This is so awesome. I've wanted to see this ever since I lived in L.A! Crazy masked Mexican wrestling, old-timey burlesque dancers, mariachi, insane comedians"!

"I know. I heard you and your sister talking about it that night at Dante's."

"You are the best listener and _So_ the coolest boyfriend, ever"! Maddy exclaimed, throwing her arms around a glowing Spencer's neck and giving him a excited kiss. "This is gonna be the best Valentine's Day, ever"!

"Happy Valentine's Day Maddy. I love you."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Spencer Shay, I love you so much"!

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><p><em><strong><span>Under the Table:<span> **_**Happy Valentine's Day to all out there in Fan Fiction Land. May all your boxes of chocolate be filled with your favorites! DTaC**


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